I feel pretty cool to be updating so quickly, but so many ideas so little time! The next chapter will probably be up today as well. I already started on it. I really hope this one came out good!

Thank you so much to everybody who is reading this story!

Enjoy:)

Chapter 3

Day 10

The supernatural activities had just about stopped and Matthew was very happy about that. But he was still afraid of the dark that something bad would happen.

Ivan hadn't improved but he hadn't gotten any worse, either. But there was no helping him, the doctor hasn't even called yet!

The Canadian was getting so irritated with this; he needed Ivan to get better now. Not in a month or two, now!

Matthew had gotten home late from work, finding that everybody was already asleep but a lamp was lighting up the living room and he thanked Arthur for being kind enough to leave it on for him. He left it on and went up the stairs to the bedroom and without changing his clothes, being too tired; he plopped on the bed and under the covers. Suddenly, he felt really cold…

He began to hear moaning from under him but didn't move.

Then from under the bed, he hears nails being caught on wood as if someone was being pulled out from under it and that moaning turned into loud wailing as an invisible body was being dragged around. There were panicked footsteps like someone had broken free and then loud thundering steps like someone was running. The door slams open and almost off its hinges. The wall was dented by the force of the slam.

Matthew pulled his head under the covers and pressed close to Ivan who hadn't even stirred once from the loud slam of the door against the wall.

Finally, the sound of the running footsteps faded away along with the dying whimpers that are suddenly cut off.

The Canadian trembled, not able to think of what to do and he didn't want to get up and close the door in case whatever had opened it came back.

So, pressed up against the Russian and head under the covers, he began to feel tired. Like all the energy was sucked right out of him so he fell into an uneasy sleep.

…..

"No, no, let me go!" The teenager struggled, trying to get away from the larger man. But it was no use.

A bandage was wrapped around his head, covering his lost right eye, the white of the bandage was died red and the cut on his left cheek was just beginning to scab over.

The both of them were out in the middle of the woods, going to only god knows where. The younger had no idea and was scared out of his mind.

He never used to be this way, he was happy… But this man who was dragging him against the ground by the cuffs on his hands had broken him.

It was nighttime, but the injured man had no idea what time or even what day it was. He doesn't know how long he's been in captivity; it could have been over a year for all he knows.

The youngest grunted when the rocks, glass and twigs on the ground cut into his back, making him bleed once again. The captor usually would go a week without hurting him, just for him to build back up the blood, even give him food and water to help… Just to keep him alive longer, to torture him. But he didn't have the guts to kill himself, he couldn't because he's tried and he faltered at the last moment. He was caught by the other and beaten so hard until he passed out from the pain.

Finally, they made it to a small shed out far in the woods, it looked broken down but still in use. The larger one opened the door to it and threw the other inside. He landed on the ground and groaned, arching his back and rolling on his side.

A boot stomped on his side and he hissed in pain, but that was all, he kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to see what horrible torture method the other had come up with this time.

He was flipped back onto his back and lifted bridal style off the ground. He felt he was being moved to another side of the shed then was lowered into something; it wasn't concrete like the ground. It felt hard and rough; he opened his eyes just in time to see a wooden lid be put over the top.

He held his breath as he heard the lock click on the now sealed coffin.

"NO!" He yelled and began banging on the lid when he heard the door to the shed open and shut. "Get me out! Get me out!"

The other sat down on a chair outside of the shed, taking out a water bottle and drank from it. Smiling at the screams coming from inside. Oh, how he loved those screams.

"Let me out…" He choked, his arms already tired from hitting the wood. He lowered them and crossed them over his chest, shivering. It was still freezing outside; he hated the dark, the cold, being alone and most of all… Confined spaces…

The cage was fine, because he was in a large room and could see around. But this? No. He couldn't take it.

His breathing became heavy as his eye darted around in the dark. He tried pushing the lid once more; it didn't budge so he tried rolling over. That didn't work, the space was too small. Only enough room to lay on his back and completely straight. He sobbed, closing his eye tight.

"Please…" He begged, normally he wouldn't. But this was too much. His mind began to shut down, not wanting to cope with the situation. His heart pounded in his ears, making it the only thing he could hear over his erratic breathing.

He tried to speak again but the words got stuck in his throat. Everything about him stopped, even his breathing. He was terrified and couldn't get himself to calm down. He heard a violin begin to play outside the shed. It was loud, and he flinched from a screeching noise it made but it went back to normal. Playing a happy tune, one he recognized.

He calmed down a little, enough to pick up his breathing so he didn't die. He felt suffocated, his breathing came in gasps. There were no holes in the coffin and he had used up all the air it seemed. He tried to take in a deep breath, but it didn't come.

He then held it once more, lying motionless. The music outside stopped abruptly, and he heard footsteps coming back inside, then the slam of the door to the shed.

"Don't tell me you've died already?" Then a chuckle.

He didn't move, he kept his eye opened, waiting for the coffin to be opened. But it didn't happen. An axe came down on the top of the coffin, poking through and cutting his stomach.

The axe was removed then it came down again, almost touching his nose,

"STOP!"

Matthew Williams slowly opened his eyes. Staring at the ceiling, he still felt drained. But he also needed to go to the bathroom, he turned to go look at the clock, it was almost 3 AM.

He got up out of bed and dragged his feet out of the bedroom and down the hall. The floor was cold and he shivered from the cool contact of the air.

He yawned, stretching his arms above his head once he reached the bathroom door. Grasping the cold doorknob and trying to turn it, it didn't give. Thinking for a moment someone was in there; he waited but then jumped when he heard nails dig into the door on the other side.

What's going on in there?

Matthew winces and grimaces at the sound of wood being scraped away as those nails dragged down the door. He holds the gold doorknob righter, his back stiffening and the hair on the back of his neck rising as he once more tried opening the door.

On the other side, there was a whimper; it turned into weeping and scraping against the floor. The Canadian swallowed, not sure if he needs to use the restroom anymore.

He was pushed away from the door by an unnatural force and the knob was out of his grasp. Slowly, the door creaks open, the light was on but no one was using the bathroom from what he could see. Peering in passed the door, he sees the bathtub filled with bright red blood, trails of it leaking over its edge. A pale hand hangs over the edge, wood embedded under the bleeding nails and slender fingers. The long pale arm hung limp, blood dripping lazily to the ground in a growing crimson puddle from the tips of the fingers.

Matthew gasped, forcing himself to turn away and he stared at the sink. Indigo eyes were wide in fear and disgust; he had never seen so much blood in his life. His breathing became irregular as he looks at the door as it slowly shuts. The wood was clean and devoid of any blood and scratches; save for eight crescent holes.

He forces his head in the direction of the tub and sees that it is clean of the blood and body. There is absolutely nothing… No bleeding white hand, no tub filled with bright red blood… Nothing.

Everything was quiet, his breathing stopped and he could barely hear his heartbeat before he fell to the ground; unconscious.

…..

Alfred woke up in the morning, sat up, stretched his arms above his head and yawned before it was cut short and he grabbed his crotch. It felt like his bladder was about to explode.

He got up and ran out of the room and towards the bathroom, flinging the door open, he ran inside, only to trip and just barely miss his face on the edge of the tub. Looking down, he sees Matthew curled in a ball, eyes wide and he was chewing on his fingernails.

Arthur walks over when he heard Alfred fall; he wanted to make sure he didn't seriously injure himself. He saw the Canadian and stated,

"Maybe we should take this more seriously…"